


After Hours

by sleeplessabout_u



Category: Pretty Little Liars
Genre: Emison - Freeform, F/F, baby hormones, emison fanfiction
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-24
Updated: 2017-08-24
Packaged: 2018-12-19 08:43:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,859
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11894133
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sleeplessabout_u/pseuds/sleeplessabout_u
Summary: Putting behind the homicidal maniac that is still out there right now, being impregnated with her friend’s eggs, having to deal with those (still very) confusing feelings for that friend, and now having to practically live with that friend — this is way worse.She’s horny..(Alison and Emily kinda living together, when pregnancy hormones start to kick in).





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Okay so i'm lowkey high right now and decide to upload this here for those Emison lovers out there who wish this would have happened.  
> .  
> .

She wakes up sweaty.

It’s the middle of the night — 4 a.m. to be exact, Alison glances at the clock next to her bed - laying down once again, eyes wide open as she becomes aware of her current situation.

Her breathing’s ragged, and the sheets feel way too heavy and constricting. She strips them of her body in less than a second — hissing when they brush against her sensitive and swollen breasts. She cannot believe this is her life right now.

Putting behind the homicidal maniac that is still out there right now, being impregnated with her friend’s eggs, having to deal with those (still very) confusing feelings for that friend, and now having to practically live with that friend — this is way worse.

She’s horny.

Fuck, she hates that word; always has (it reminds her of all those neanderthal boys in high school — it repulses her, and it’s no different now) but that’s the only word she can use to describe the state of desperation, want, and frustration she is experiencing right now.

She presses her legs together, biting back a whimper as the ache between her legs is momentarily relieved.

She’s aching. It makes her mad.

Goddamn hormones, she curses as she runs her hand through her now protruding belly, that just seems to grow bigger everyday. Probably because of Emily’s —

“Emily…” she whispers to herself, pausing as her mind starts racing.

Emily.

Emily, who’s sleeping down the hall right now, (because they don’t actually sleep together, at least not every night. Only when one of them has a nightmare, or when they pass out during an episode of Cupcake Wars, or on those regular occasions where they get takeout and Alison’s room seems too far away when she’s already half asleep on Emily’s bed, with her head on the brunette’s chest as she gets her hair played with). Emily, who told her to consider keeping the baby, and Alison did it because it’s Emily, and it’s been so long since she’s been able to deny her anything, (and maybe because the idea of having a little brunette with big doe eyes running around fills her up with longing, but with so much happiness too. And maybe, just maybe, because she gets to keep Emily because of this; and even though she knows it’s wrong, she can’t help it).

And safe, Emily always makes her feel safe.

Especially with that lean toned body of hers. ‘Ooh! And her arms,’ Alison thinks as she licks her lips, ‘all muscley from all those swimming years’. Obviously, Alison’s aware Emily doesn’t have the exact same physique she had when she was 16 but she’s in good conditions. That much Alison knows. She carries like 8 more bags than Alison carries, when they get home after groceries. Emily mows the lawn — and that might be Alison’s new favorite thing to do on sunny days, because Emily wears practically nothing and she always gets really sweaty and hot and —

If it wasn’t enough confirmation for Alison to know how attracted she is to Emily Fields, she is certainly aware by the sudden and greater warmth between her legs.

It’s too hard to ignore now, she’s sure.

All of her being is just begging her to walk that 8 feet distance to Emily’s room; her body’s just aching for it because she hasn’t been able to erase what had happened almost a decade ago; the feeling of Emily’s warm skin on her, the brunette’s soft lips, her teasing tongue and the way she had whimpered when Alison had ran her nails through her back and —

“Fuck,” Alison groans, finally relenting and moving her hand to the waistband on her underwear, until she gives up on the thought instantly; her head falling back onto the pillow.

She wants Emily.

She wants her, Alison thinks as she rubs her eyes in frustration.

“You know what,” she says to herself as she sprints out of bed barefoot, “this is her problem too,” she mutters, marching decidedly to Emily’s room.

When she gets there, Alison opens the door in a blink, grateful that it didn’t wake up the brunette — because how exactly is she supposed to explain this current dilema — and stops dead on her track at the view.

Emily’s on her back; her worn out t-shirt riding up just a couple of inches short from her breasts to be exposed, and all Alison wants to do is touch and wow she hadn’t realized how close she was until she realizes she’s sitting by the edge of the bed and her hand is just an inch from the brunette’s tantalizing skin.

She touches, softly. Just a feather-like touch. Careful not to awake her. And then, she thinks, 'Maybe I don’t even have to humiliate myself to Emily.’

Maybe she’ll be good with just touching and taking in the brunette’s presence and then going back to her room, Alison thinks.

Yeah, that’ll work.

So Alison touches.

She runs her hands through Emily’s smooth legs - loving specially how the brunette hums contently when Alison reaches her thighs - and yeah, legs might be a dangerous territory. So she runs her hands up and down her toned arms, and her stomach - reveling on the taut muscles that flex when her hands go too high and she remembers how Emily’s always been ticklish in her belly so she stops that too, (also because Emily’s chest has always been a weakness of hers and she is not about to let Emily catch her fondling her while she sleeps, and— Oh, god. How creepy would that be).

Now aware of what the hell she was actually doing, Alison carefully stands up for her spot in Emily’s mattress and tip toes to the door.

It’s not when she hears a distinct, “Ali?,” coming from behind that she stops dead in her tracks.

This cannot be happening.


	2. Chapter 2

Alison shuts her eyes, taking a deep breath so she can gather her thoughts on how the fuck she was going to explain this.

“Hey, is everything okay?” Emily says, her voice still raspy from sleep, and Alison just wants to punch herself in the face for how weak in the knees she just got from that sound.

She turns around to face Emily who is now leaning on her elbows, a worried frown on her face, eyes running all over her face as if she was looking for the answer Alison is praying she doesn’t find.

“Well?,” Emily tries again, sitting up and Alison clears her throat.

“I, um—well, it’s nothing. I’m okay, Em,” she musters a smile that surely looks like a cringe by the way Emily’s frown depends. “I’m going back to bed, yes?,” she fakes a yawn, “Yes!” she shrills, turning around and grabbing the doorknob, and—

“Wait, what?” Emily says, and Alison realizes it’s way too late to leave because a tan hand is wrapping around her wrist, tugging on it softly until she’s being directed toward’s the brunettes bed.

Emily makes her sit down and Alison’s just trying to look everywhere, except where Emily is but that seems to be impossible because Emily’s standing right in front her in a shirt and underwear, so close that she can just smell the shea butter body wash the brunette uses and, oh god, if she would just lean a bit she’d had her face right between Emily's—

“Ali, what’s going on? Are you hot? God, you’re so flushed right now, are you getting sick? Is it the baby?” Emily rants, her hands alternating between her cheeks, and her forehead. “Is that why you were here?”

Alison shakes her head, “No, I was— God, Emily it’s nothing. Can I please get back to my room?,” she nearly begs because, god, why can’t Emily just let it go.

Or put some clothes on. Or look less fucking edible.

She watches Emily kneel on the floor, until they’re both almost eye-to-eye.

“Why are you lying?,” Emily asks and Alison’s trying to look at everywhere but the girl in front of her. “Were you, like, craving food?,” she asks with a small smile, and Alison sighs.

I wish it were food, Alison thinks to herself with a shake of her head. But then looks up to realize she didn’t say it in in her mind at all — because Emily’s deer caught in headlights look are about the exact reaction Alison was trying to avoid since the beginning.

Shit.

“Uhm,” she hears Emily murmur, and that’s all she needs to stand up from the brunette’s bed like if it were on fire because what was she even thinking in the first place, thinking she would just strut in here and demand it and Emily would’ve just jumped into her arms— who was she kidding.

She’s huge, and hormonal, and swollen; nobody could ever say yes to this. At least, not Emily. Not when Alison’s sure there’s no possibility of something ever—

“Hey, hey…” Emily says soothingly, once again standing up to where’s is, half way out the door. “Don’t go,” she says softly as she shuts the door. And they both stay like that, just standing there all quiet, until, “So, how can I help?,” she asks casually.

Alison’s head shots up so quick, and Emily’s face is completely blank.

She sure can name at least a hundred ways of how she can help but for now she’ll settle for, “Can you please just start with putting some clothes on please?,” she whines and Emily laughs.

She laughs.

“Isn’t that like the opposite of what you wanted?,” the brunette says with a smirk, and Alison gulps, “Of what you were craving,”

Alison feels lightheaded at the way she said that word, because she’d always had experience with sweet and caring Emily.

She’s never seen this Emily.

This Emily’s so casual about them doing… stuff just because Alison’s libido is, like, off the roof.

But it’s more like Emily expected it. There’s no surprise, or indecision like in their previous interactions. It’s like she knew this was going to happen, and Alison finds that very kind of intriguing…

She doesn’t really trust her voice right now, but just to make sure, “So that means…”

“That means,” Emily starts, as she grabs her gently by the waist and turns her around until Alison’s walking backwards to the bed again, “that this is my baby, and you’re having it,” she says lowly, licking her lips and that’s the only thing Alison can see on that right now, “and if that means that I have to help you out sometimes, I won’t protest.”

And for some reason that takes her out of her trance, and she frowns at Emily, “Wait, so—” but whatever hormone-driven reply she was going to say dies in her throat the second Emily mouth crashes into hers.

And Emily’s on a mission, if this kiss wasn’t enough proof. The brunette is urgent, not even hesitating before shoving her tongue inside Alison’s mouth and, yes, that’s exactly what I wanted, Alison thinks as she throws her arms around the brunette’s shoulders, moaning at the feeling of being so pressed up against the other woman.

And Emily’s still surprisingly gentle (despite how hard she’s sucking on Alison’s bottom lip right now, and how her hands are grasping at her barely there hips, almost possessively).

She wouldn’t have expected any less. Emily’s always so soft.

Alison can’t help but swoon when Emily eases her down onto the mattress, which is probably the first moment with their mouths unattached.

Emily grins, “Are you, uhm, enjoying yourself?,” she says, and Alison can see the actual inquiry in her eyes. So she pecks the brunette’s lips quickly.

“Very,” Alison says smiling, and when Emily’s mouth goes to press with hers once again, she admits, “But it’d be even more enjoyable if you’d take your shirt off,” she mutters shyly against Emily’s lips.

Emily hums with a knowing smirk and gets off from Alison, taking her shirt off, and throwing it on the floor. And just sitting there with a stupid smile, letting Alison look all she wanted.

Oh, and she totally did.

Alison roams her eyes at every bit of skin she can get. She’s pretty sure she’s wearing the dumbest look on her face because of Emily’s laughing, but she doesn’t care.

She doesn’t care at all.

So, in a blink, Alison sits up and takes her own shirt off (ignoring all the alarms going off in her head telling her how huge she is) momentarily enjoying the look of awe Emily gives her, and then grabs the back of the other woman’s head, crashing their mouths together again.

Emily’s hands go immediately to her breasts and Alison moans in her mouth but then Emily’s breaking the kiss and leans forward until her mouth is pressing the wettest open-mouth kisses all over her neck and shoulders, and on her chest and breasts, and Alison can’t help but throw her head back and moan loudly because, yes.

Emily pushes her back a bit and Alison gets the hint and lays back down on the mattress until the brunette is laying half on top of her (because the belly’s starting to get in the way), kissing her neck and her lips. “You feel so good,” Emily says grinning lazily, her eyes dark, “can I…” she ask, motioning Alison’s underwear and the blonde almost breaks her neck from nodding so hard.

Emily chuckles at her reply and starts taking her underwear off, and Alison’s so ready. She’s practically vibrating with anticipation, and nervousness.

Emily can probably sense this because she tears her eyes from her the blonde’s exposed body to smile softly at her, “You’re beautiful, you know?,” she says, and Alison feels herself flush, “Impossibly, and annoyingly beautiful. Even more now,”

Alison doesn’t believe because she knows how huge she’s getting but still, “Thank you,” she replies shyly and Emily pecks her stomach before running her hands up the inside of her thighs and Alison feels like she’s on fire.

“Should I continue? Are you still sure?,” Emily asks again, as if she can’t see or smell how wet Alison is.

Alison just rolls her eyes, grabs Emily’s hand and directs it exactly where she needs it.

And fuck, Emily groans at the same time she does.

“Oh…,” Emily whispers thickly as she runs her fingers through Alison and—

“Fuck yes,” Alison moans, her eyes rolling to the back of her head when Emily swiftly enters her with a single finger while sucking on her breasts and her neck and her chest and god, Alison can feel her everywhere.

Until she can’t, and she opens her heavy eyelids to look at Emily who’s eyes are wild.

“You should be on top,” Emily says, already scrambling to flip them, “your belly,” she explains, and okay that makes sense, Alison thinks.

Emily sits down on the bed, watching her as she places herself on top of the brunette, and they’re still shuffling a bit on order to get more comfortable in this position but then—fuck, Emily’s bare thigh accidentally presses against her core and Alison’s self-control goes out the window.

She starts rolling her hips frantically because— fuck, she’s so close, and she’s moaning so loud but she’s pretty sure she just heard Emily cursing and Alison’s basically humping her thigh and she knows it must be a mess because she’s so wet but the brunette doesn’t seem to mind because she starts licking and biting at every bit of skin she has access to and it just feels all too good and Alison grabs the back of her head and kisses her and it’s so needy and dirty.

“Fuck, you feel so good,” Emily moans agains her mouth, grabbing Alison’s hips, guiding her harder and faster against her thigh. “You’re so wet,” she pants.

And Alison’s sure she’s not gonna hold any longer because she can barely catch her breath, and Emily’s sucking on her neck, and pinching her nipples, and they’re both so sweaty and frantic and Emily’s thigh is hitting her in a spot that makes her thighs tremble and fuck—

Everything goes black.

At least that’s how it feels like for Alison after having the supernova of orgasms. Until Emily starts laughing.

“Did you just,” Emily starts, and Alison groans in response, hiding her face in the brunette’s shoulder as the other woman runs her hands on the blonde’s back.

“Can you not, please?,” Alison mumbles embarrassedly.

Emily just kisses her forehead and says, “I’m so good,” with a smirk and Alison would’ve rolled her eyes if she had the slightest bit of energy. 

.

The next morning, Alison’s making breakfast and Emily kissing her shoulder and joking about baby hormones and cravings and about the nail scratches Alison left on her shoulders and they’re both blushing and grinning, and this feels far too light for what this actually means or what they’re going through but when Emily grabs her hand during pancakes with her gentle smile and kind eyes, she can’t think of anything else but what’s right in front of her.


End file.
